


Hope

by WhiskyNotTea



Series: Whisky's Other Outlander Tales [14]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Gen, Show Compliant, episode 13, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 11:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17621246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskyNotTea/pseuds/WhiskyNotTea
Summary: Roger’s thoughts when he learns that Brianna never wanted Jamie to beat him up.





	Hope

“She sent you for me, then?”

“Yes.”

Claire’s eyes were clear, focused, just as he remembered them. Her voice rang in his ears, the words anchoring him. He thought abstractedly that she was even more beautiful in the past than in their own time, her time.  

Bree didn’t want him to be beaten. She hadn’t done this, had never sent him away from the Ridge. Roger looked up at Claire and Jamie Fraser standing in front of him, and all he could see was Brianna.  _She_  had sent them to rescue him.

He smiled, and the tears welled in his eyes. The air whooshed out of him in a soft sob, and he bent his head, feeling suddenly exposed.

The realization felt like a cool breeze dancing on his skin, easing his sore muscles as if her long fingers traced patterns on his body, painting relief.

Bree still wanted him.

Roger took a deep breath, and for the first time since the night Fraser had sold him, he felt his lungs welcome the air. Welcome life. He had a reason to survive now, he had her.

Roger had raved when he heard the priest talking about love back in the hut. He had been sure then that he was a fool for loving her still. And he was. Not because he had heard his heart all this time, but because in the lonely nights, when they had kept him tethered against a tree, he had doubted it.

He could blame the pain. The disappointment. The betrayal.

He had been lost.

He had walked for days with his feet focused on escaping outcrops and his mind focused on her. Her smooth skin, the almond-shaped eyes reflecting the fire inside him, her body, fitting perfectly in his arms. Sometimes at noon, when the sun hit the flowers long enough, he could smell a hint of the perfume she had worn back in their own time. But her scent, what was purely her, was what he had conjured in his mind every night when they left him alone. And he cried like a wee lad, thinking that he’d never smell her again.

Their fight had become a part of his every day. Had him analyzing again and again, trying to remember their exact words and gestures, how she had raised her voice and how he had lashed back at her. Stupid words, selfishly masking a love that was burning them both alive.

He knew he was walking a fine line the moment she mentioned the obituary, but everything went out of control faster than he thought it could have. He had said the wrong things, he knew that now, but she should know that he hadn’t meant them that way. He would never impose himself on her, of all people! All he wanted was to keep her safe. To make her listen, stubborn as she was. And to hear two words leaving her lips. “ _Don’t go._ ” He had gone back through time and across an ocean for her, and she couldn’t ask him to stay. He’d always been one step ahead in this relationship. Wanting more, wishing for a future when she was focused on nothing but the present. After everything they had gone through, he felt he deserved her to take that step, to ask him to stay. He had earned it.

Bitter thoughts infiltrated his mind with every mile that took him away from her, their quiet voices singing his anguish and despair. Every chance for safety he had sacrificed for her bit him back at night, when the darkness was thick and the blood tasted tangy on his lips. Hope had abandoned him. His trust in them had become a fragile stem, crashed under the Mohawks’ boots and Fraser’s fists.

But his love, what he’d thought stupid when he had talked to the priest, never left him. She could feed his love even from miles away. She had always done that.

And now, looking at the Frasers, he knew that no matter what, his and Brianna’s love would conquer it all. She was his wife and he was her husband, and that sense of belonging knew no time or space.


End file.
